Always Starting Over
by PrinceRabbit
Summary: Velyian is an elf from ancient Arlathan. Saevin Lavellan is the Inquisitor. They have a thing.


Velyian retched violently, spitting a stream of sparking magic onto the flagstones. Green magic swirled around her, the portal fizzling and popping before snapping shut with a crack that rattled windowpanes. Struggling to her knees, she threw her head back and gasped for air. The sky above her was startlingly blue, and the sun shone brightly into the courtyard.

Taking in her surroundings, she noticed two other people in the garden with her, a human man, tall and tanned with a rather ridiculous moustache, and another elf. Velyian's breath caught in her throat; she was _beautiful_. Close cropped black hair and brilliant green eyes, and bronzed skin free of vallaslin. Velyian cleared her throat, suddenly very aware of her own markings under their heavy stare. Straightening up shakily, she held out both hands to show they were empty. Her staff didn't seem to have made it with her to... Wherever she was.

"Do you know where I am?" she asked in Elven, but disappointment washed over her when she saw the confusion written on the elf's face. "Where am I?" she tried again in common, the words harsh and bitter on her tongue.

"This is Skyhold," said the man in a smooth lilting voice. Velyian liked him immediately. "In the Frostback mountains?" he finished, head tilting to the side to regard her with a curious look.

"How did you get here?" demanded the elf. She took a step forward, the human close at her elbow.

Velyian backed up, very aware of her lack of a weapon. "I am unsure. One moment I was- I was here, actually. But it was not the same." Velyian raised her hands slowly before reaching into her tunic and removing a small silver pendant. "I picked up this, and then I was here. That is all I know."

The human held out his hand and Velyian reluctantly have him the pendant. He turned to the elf, holding it up.

"This reminds me of the amulet Alexius used. Look familiar to you?"

The elf squinted at the piece of jewelry, realization dawning on her face. "Shit. How did it- how many did he make? And how did you end up with one?" she asked, pointing at Velyian.

Velyian shrugged. "I know no more than you, believe me. I was investigating this fortress for Lord Fen'Harel-" she broke off as the elf blanched.

"Put your hands where I can see them. Dorian, can you get Bull?" the elf ordered, throwing out her own hand to cast a static cage around Velyian. She felt her hair stand on end as she held up her hands, palms out. The man, Dorian, crossed the yard and disappeared down a flight of stone steps.

He reappeared a few moments later, accompanied by the biggest man Velyian had ever seen. He was huge, tall and broad, with grey skin and horns like a steer protruding from the sides of his head. He was missing an eye and his face was heavily scarred. She cowered a little, feeling the walls of the cage zap at her clothes. Behind the two of them trailed a young man with shaggy white blond hair, and another elf woman carrying a bow.

"What's this about, boss?" rumbled the giant horned man, surveying the scene before him. The archer stopped short when she caught sight of Velyian and groaned.

"No. No, not more elfy shite. Elves and magic, fuckin' brilliant. I'm going back to the tavern, don't die." She turned on her heel an all but vaulted back down the stairs. The blond youth watched her go, but approached the spectacle slowly.

"Shocked, scared, shaking. She wants to leave but the magic makes her teeth hurt." He looked to the first elf and she nodded, dropping the cage.

"Explain yourself. From the beginning, for the others."

Velyian was still staring at the boy, unnerved by his perception. Turning slowly to face the elf, she nodded.

"I was scouting this fortress for my Lord Fen'Harel, and I came to this courtyard. Well, not this courtyard, but- I cannot explain. They are the same but different. And I found a pendant for an amulet." She pointed to Dorian. "You have it. When I picked it up, nothing happened, so I put it in my pocket and walked around a bit more. I came to this place," she tapped the ground with her foot, "and the air became strange. Heavy. And then I was here. It was very unpleasant," she added, grimacing as she gestured to the puddle of magic vomit on the stones.

"You say you serve Fen'Harel. Why?"

Velyian laughed. "Why would I not? He sheltered me when I ran from Dirthamen. He has shown me nothing but kindness, and offering my talents is the least I can do in return for his charity." The elf only looked more confused as she went on, and finally she sighed. "I am Velyian, and I mean no harm to you or your companions. Does this put you more at ease?"

The small group exchanged looks before the elf nodded.

"My name is Saevin. These are my friends: Dorian, The Iron Bull, and Cole. Sera was here but she- left."

Velyian nodded to each of them in turn, still uneasy around The Iron Bull and Cole.

"He won't hurt you. I won't either. Sera doesn't want to but you frightened her," said Cole softly, and Velyian felt her panic ebbing away. She nodded simply.

Saevin studied the elf sitting before her. She was pretty, with red hair that fell below her jaw and intensely blue eyes. She bore the vallaslin of Dirthamen, and despite their meaning they complimented her features well. Her clothing was styled simply but fashioned out of high quality materials, and a lyrium-etched rabbit skull hung from a band around her neck. Saevin was reminded painfully of Solas and his wolf jaw necklace. She also noticed that Velyian sat crooked, leaning far to the left to rest on the arm of her seat. Her eyes flickered around the room, taking in everything at once.

News of Velyian's unorthodox arrival had spread rapidly and they were now seated in Josephine's study, away from prying eyes and crowding questions. Josephine had left them alone, ushering out a confused Cullen and an intrigued Leliana as she went.

"So you have no idea how you got here?" asked Saevin, "None at all?"

Velyian shook her head. "I've already told you no. Do you truly not believe me or can you think of nothing else to say?"

Saevin frowned, offended and mildly embarrassed. "I can think of plenty to say, that just seemed like the easiest line of questioning," she snapped, feeling defensive.

"Ask me something harder, I tire of this talking in circles. I do not know how I came to be here, we have established this. Can you tell me where exactly _here _is?" Velyian said, rolling her eyes. "Your friend Dorian said this was Skyhold, but I have never heard that name attributed to this place."

"What have you heard it called, then?" prodded Saevin, anxiety beginning to blossom in her chest.

"My lord called it Tarasy'lan Te'las. I cannot translate it to common- I do not have the words to describe it."

"The place where the sky is kept," murmured Saevin, horror sweeping over her.

"That is... Not entirely accurate but a close estimation, I suppose."

Saevin groaned. It was all coming together, the fragments falling into place as the truth of who this woman was became clear. Everything she knew about ancient elves, what they had seen at the Temple of Mythal, even the way Velyian spoke and carried herself, pointed to another time. An older time. And not only was Velyian in the wrong time, she was also a servant of Fen'Harel. Saevin shuddered to think what it would mean should he acquire a method for bending time itself.

Standing, she beckoned to Velyian to follow her, and led her through the great hall and down the stairs, across the yard to the tavern. Iron Bull was sitting in his usual place, the rest of the Chargers settled around him comfortably. Saevin pulled Bull aside as Velyian became a minor spectacle.

"Can you keep an eye on her? I need to find Dorian and work out how she got here and how to get her back, but she needs to see as little of this place as possible. And hear as little as possible. Just keep her distracted but don't mention anything specific to this time. The present, I mean. Don't talk about Corypheus, and don't mention the Breach."

Bull placed a huge hand on her shoulder. "It's alright boss, I'll handle her. You and Dorian figure out what happened."

Saevin took a deep breath and nodded, sweeping out of the tavern to hunt down Dorian.

She returned several hours later, irritated and discouraged, to find Velyian thoroughly drunk and leaving heavily on Krem.

"Your Worship," he greeted, one arm wrapped around Velyian's waist goodnaturedly. "Come to collect?"

Saevin sighed through her nose, shaking her head. Bull was nowhere to be seen, but she spotted Sera perched on the table behind Krem. Reaching out to support a tottering Velyian, she nodded to Sera.

"Are you alright? I know you probably hate this."

Sera shrugged. "This ones alright. She's no noble, that's fersure. Krem of the crop here got her talking about her wolfy boyfriend, that was pretty funny. Yknow she fucks that Fen'Harel arsehole you talk about?"

"She does _**what**_?"

"Yeah! She started waxing fuckin' poetic about him, it was gross. Funny, but gross," Sera snickered.

Velyian made a noise of protest from her place glued to Saevin's side.

"I di' not 'wax poetic', 'scuse you Sera."

Saevin was still in shock. Not only did this woman serve the Dread Wolf, she also _slept with him?_ She needed to find Dorian. Again. Briefly she wished Solas were still around. He would probably know how to handle such a situation. Immediately her mouth tasted sour.

Snorting derisively, she hoisted Velyian up higher against her side. The other elf was significantly taller than she, towering a good six inches above her, so it was awkward maneuvering her out of the tavern. Saevin spotted Cullen in the yard and called to him. As soon as he was near, she deposited Velyian in his arms.

"You've no doubt heard about our new guest?" she said, trying not to pant. Velyian was heavy.

"I- uh. I assume this is her?" stammered Cullen, obviously uncomfortable with being forced into holding a strange woman bridal style.

"Yeah, that's her. Iron Bull got her drunk and- well. Can you help me get her to my quarters? I don't really have anywhere else to put her yet."

"Is that wise, Inquisitor? Perhaps we should put her somewhere less... Accessible?"

"I'm not locking her up, Cullen. She's done nothing to suggest she means us any harm, and besides, how would you like to wake up in a dungeon with a hangover?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," he mumbled.

"Excuse me- _what?_"

"Nothing, Inquisitor. To your quarters, then?" asked Cullen, heading towards the stairs with his face burning. Saevin looked after him for a moment before shaking her head and following.


End file.
